Quasimodo's Childhood
by lolzmelmel
Summary: My idea of how life was for Quasimodo growing up in the belltower. May contain D'awwww moments. Reader discretion advised. My first fic, so be nice please.
1. Chapter 1

"Care for the child, and raise it as your own."

That was what the Archdeacon had said to Frollo after he pushed the Gyspy woman down the steps of Notre Dame, causing her to break her neck.

Frollo did not know how to care for a baby. He asked some of the soldiers in town to observe their wives and how they cared for their children. If they asked him why he wanted to know, he told them he had adopted a child who would grow up to ring the bells of Notre Dame, but he would never be allowed outside or have any other human company but himself, so as not to be corrupted. He did not tell them anything about the tiny monster, how he obtained it, or what it looked like. Soon enough Frollo taught himself how to change and wash diapers, clean the baby, and sang hymns and prayers to it to make it sleep. Aside from basic care to keep it alive and content, he showed no tenderness towards the baby. He was temporarily living in the bell tower with the little monster to care for it until it was able to walk and talk, which he knew would take two to three years. When it was strong enough he'd teach it to ring the bells.

The only reason he did not drown this baby was because the Archdeacon had told him that raising it was the only way to atone for killing its mother and save his soul from the judgment of Mary, the Holy Virgin Mother, and the subsequent fire of eternity.

After thinking carefully for several days, he decided on a name. Quasimodo. It meant "half formed" or "almost a person." It fit this misshapen child like a glove.

The Archdeacon did not say he had to love the baby, so Frollo refused to do so. No matter how sweet Quasimodo looked as he slept, no matter how peaceful the tower felt when Frollo was able to make him stop crying, no matter how many times the child would grab at his long fingers and give him a toothless grin, he would not let its innocent mannerisms soften his heart. The child was a monster and would always be a monster.

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><p>"Fa!" the child would cry when he saw Frollo enter the belltower, and would run to wrap his arms around the man's knees.<p>

Quasimodo was three years old and getting better with his speech, but still insisted on calling Frollo Fa, Fatha, Da, Papa, or any other childish equivalent of Father. Once he had said "Mastah", but decided he didn't like it and refused to use it most of the time.

"Good morning, Quasimodo," Frollo greeted him loftily, raising his basket a little so the child would not his head on it as he hugged his legs.

"Guh morneen, Fa!" Quasimodo looked up at him and grinned, showing his pearly little crooked white teeth, dimples appearing in his cheeks and somehow making his hideous face somewhat endearing.

Frollo reached down and gently pushed the boy away so he could walk to the table, set his basket down, and fetch their plates and cups, a tall dark chalice for him and a small wooden goblet for the child, from the shelf and place them on the table where they ate.

"Time for breakfast, Quasimodo," he said coolly, uncovering his basket and taking out a flask of water and a bottle of wine. He poured wine into his own cup and water into Quasimodo's, adding a little bit of wine to flavor it and help keep the boy healthy. "Here is a boiled egg and a croissant and half an apple for you."

"Tank you, Da!" the boy squealed as he picked up his egg and took a big bite.

They ate in silence, until Frollo decided to work on his speech with him.

"Can you say your name? Quasimodo?"

"Qua...si. Quasi!"

"What comes next? Modo?"

"Modo... Quas-i. Mo-doe."

"Good. Now say it together. Quasimodo."

"Quasimodo," the child repeated slowly.

"Very good. Now, what are those?" Frollo pointed upward.

"Bells!"

"What is that?" Frollo pointed down.

"Frwoor!"

"Say your l, boy. L."

"Ell-uh."

_"Floor."_ Frollo put emphasis on the L.

"Fuh-lore."

"Try again, Quasimodo."

_"Flooooooor."_

"Good. Now, who am I?"

"Papa!" Quasimodo exclaimed with a smile and clapping his hands.

"I am your master, Quasimodo. Say 'master.'"

"Ma... mas..."

"Master."

"Mas... tah. Mas-tah!"

"It will get better in time. Now, I must leave." He stood up, cleaned from their breakfast, and turned to go. He was halfway down to the church when he heard pattering footsteps behind him.

"Quasimodo, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"Go wif you!" the small monster said, holding his chubby little arms out to Frollo.

"No, Quasimodo." Frollo turned, placed his hand on the child's developing hunch, and guided him back into the tower. "You are to stay in here."

He led Quasimodo back to the table and sat him down. "Stay here, Quasimodo." At the child's sad look, he added, "I will return soon. Wait here." The boy still looked unhappy but he did not try to follow when his master left.


	2. Chapter 2

Warning! More D'awww moments ahead. Oh, and the discovery of gargoyles. I dunno, I actually d'awww'd some while writing it.

I don't own The Hunchback of Notre Dame or any of its characters.

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><p>"Father!" Quasimodo shouted, running to the window. "Father, look at the sky! It s so beautiful!"<p>

"Quasimodo, how many times must I tell you, call me Master? Come over here," the judge commanded, refusing to acknowledge the child s joy at the colors.

Quasimodo was five years old now, and already able to read, write, and do arithmetic. He may have been a monster, but he was a fast learner, Frollo admitted grudgingly.

As the boy loped over to the table where Frollo sat, he attempted to hold himself straighter. He had a hunched back, which he knew was not normal, as neither Frollo nor any of the townsfolk he watched out the windows stood stooped like him. Frollo repeatedly told him he was deformed and ugly, so Quasimodo did not think very highly of his appearance, but he was proud of his intelligence, puffing his chest with pride every time he read a passage out loud correctly and got a curt expression of approval from the man who served as his father, teacher, and master.

"Let us review your alphabet."

"Yes, Master! I would like that very much," Quasimodo eagerly responded as Frollo opened a book.

"A?" Frollo asked.

"Abomination," Quasimodo replied.

"B?"

"Blasphemy."

"C?"

"Contrition."

"D?"

"Damnation."

"E?"

"Eternal damnation."

"Good. F?"

"Fh... Forgiveness?"

"G?"

And so it went on until they got to Z("Zeal!") and Frollo, deciding they were done with studies for the afternoon, started to leave to do whatever it was he did when he wasn't educating his ward. Arresting criminals, perhaps.

Quasimodo ran after him and tugged at his robe before he started descending the steps.

"What is it, Quasimodo?" Frollo asked.

"Master, why can't I go outside?" Quasimodo chirped.

"The world is a dark, cruel place. Remember, you are a deformed, ugly child. Outside they would hate you and try to hurt you. This bell tower is the only place you are safe. Do you understand?" Frollo explained.

Quasimodo was stunned by his words. He knew he was ugly, but why would people want to hurt him? He was just a child, and he wouldn't harm anyone.

Once he was gone, Quasimodo had to ring the bells by pulling on a rope. The boy wasn't strong enough to actually pull it, so he would grab the rope, brace his feet on a support beam, and climb up about ten feet before jumping down, gripping the rope to avoid striking the floor and hurting himself. He was a bit large for his age, all dense muscle and a layer of baby fat, so his weight was enough to make the bells ring gently and briefly, though he had to do this several times, his soft red hair flying as he fell through the air. Eventually he was done with the ringing and went back to the big table, covered by a cloth, on which Frollo had left some books for him. The Bible, a book on anatomy, and a book on art. Quasimodo had read parts of the bible, especially enjoying the part about Noah's ark. He wondered what all the animals looked like, as he'd never seen any except for birds, insects, and the occasional dog, cat, pig, cow, or horse in the street far below. Frollo had once told him about a strange land where there lived creatures called Lions, Camels, and Elephants. Quasimodo wondered what they looked like. Perhaps if he asked, Frollo would bring him a book about animals.

"I wish I could go outside," he said glumly, watching a flock of birds fly past a window. He frequently suffered from boredom and loneliness, but Frollo was the only person who would not be frightened of him and try to kill him, so he wasn't allowed to have any other people in the tower.

Suddenly he got an idea. Why not explore the belltower? He wasn't allowed to leave it, but it was his home, so all areas of it should be all right for him to be in.

He started with the main area. Moving aside curtains, he found some pieces of broken statues piled up. Climbing them, he got about six feet off the ground.

"Wow, this is neat," he said to himself, smiling. He stood up and looked around. Behind the pile were three stone gargoyles that didn't appear to be fixed down. He got an idea.

Climbing down and walking around to the other side, he took a good look at the gargoyles. One was tall, his head reaching its shoulder. The other two were about his height. The tall one had finely carved muscles and a handsome face with a rounded chin, pointed ears and large feathered wings. One of the short ones had a face like a pig, tiny wings, long horns, and tiny arms. The last one looked a bit like an old woman, with an aged, rounded face, long, thin arms, short thick horns, and feathered wings, smaller than the tall one's but larger than the pig-faced one. Quasimodo leaned against the pig-like one and pushed at it with all his might until it started to move, and slowly pushed it close to the big table. Huffing and puffing, he slid down its fat belly to sit on the floor and catch his breath. When he did, he set to work moving the other two. It took nearly an hour to get them where he wanted them, but when he did, he smiled. He now had three stone playmates. Ideas rushed through his head for games to play, even though he had no knowledge of any games that other children might play. Even though they were only statues, Quasimodo felt overwhelmed with joy at his discovery.

"Hmm, what should we do first?" Quasimodo asked thoughtfully, knowing they wouldn't answer. "Oh, I know!"

He grabbed the cloth from the table, tied it around his neck like a cape, grabbed an ancient hat he found in his room shaped like his master's, and put it on.

"I am Judge Claude Frollo! Stop, thief!" he shouted, pointing at the pig-gargoyle. He ran over to it and pushed it so it shifted slightly and said in a loud, obnoxious voice, "No! You'll never get me! I'm gonna steal EVERYTHING! Hahahahaha!"

Quasimodo got behind the tall gargoyle and turned it so it was facing the pig-gargoyle. "No, you won't!" he said in a refined tone. "Because I"m going to arrest you! Come here!"

Running back to the pig-gargoyle, he growled "Oh no you won't!" Back to the tall one. "Oh yes I will!" Back to the fat one. "Oh no you won t!"

He stepped between them and said in a pompous voice, "Captain, stop arguing with the thief and arrest him already!" And he pushed the tall gargoyle closer to the pig-like one, grabbed the pig s small arms, and said in the refined voice, "You re under arrest!"

"Oh, fishes!" Quasimodo said in the obnoxious voice. "You got me!"

And thus he went on, playing the Judge and pretending the gargoyles were criminals, soldiers, or citizens, until outside grew dark, so he lit the candles Frollo had brought for him to light the place up at night, and he heard the door open to signal his master's return. He put the cloth back on the table and threw the hat under it and went to greet the Judge.

"Hi, Master!" he said, smiling ear to ear.

"Good evening, Quasimodo. Pray tell, what are you so happy about?" Frollo asked, raising his basket a bit.

Quasimodo grabbed his foster father s free hand and dragged him to the table. "Look what I found, Master!"

"Gargoyles? Did you move them by yourself?"

Quasimodo giggled. "That's a silly question, Fath-I mean, Master! Of course I moved them by myself! It took a really really long time but I did it! And I played with them, too!" He beamed up at Frollo, who raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. The lad was only five years old, so it was probably healthy for him to play. After all, he frequently saw other children his age in the city tossing balls to one another or playing with dolls, strings, and other toys. It was only natural for Quasimodo to play as well.

"Well now. It is good you have found a source of recreation. Now, time for supper," he said, seating himself at the little table and placing his basket on it while the boy fetched their cups and plates. "Tonight we have some ham, bread, and cheese." He took these items out and placed them on their plates, then added, "And a special treat, some grapes. Your favorite." He ignored the huge smile that lit up the boy's face as he lifted the fruit out of the basket.

He didn't know why he provided these little luxuries for Quasimodo. He certainly didn't love him or even like him. He did his best not to be attached to the boy, but sometimes his cheerful attitude was just too much and Frollo would find himself smiling as well, until he caught himself and reminded himself that however sweet he may be, he was still a monster. Still, he was his responsibility, and he knew full well that if the child got too depressed he would become physically unhealthy and get sick, so he would sometimes bring him treats like sweet bread or fruits he particularly liked.

When they finished eating, Quasimodo ran around the table and hugged Frollo, smiling at him.

"Thank you, Master, for bringing this good food. I really liked it," he gushed, and ran to put the cups and plates away as Frollo shook his head, trying to fathom how the boy could be so full of energy and so happy all the time. A thought arose, that the little monster might love him, but he pushed it away. Monsters were not capable of love.

_But children are_, the thought said. _And Quasimodo is a child._

Frollo shook his head again, trying to clear his mind.

"Shall we go over the Ten Commandments?"

"Oh, yes, Master!" Quasi responded eagerly, even though he could not remember all of them.

"Very well. The first commandment is...?"

"Thou shalt have no other gods before me."

"Second?"

"Thou shalt not create for yourselves false idols."

"Third?"

"Thou shalt not... um..." He tried to remember, but had forgotten this one.

"Take the Lord s name...?" Frollo prompted.

"Oh! Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain!" Quasi replied.

"Fourth?"

"Honor the Sabbath and keep it holy."

"Good. Fifth?"

"Honor thy mother and father," the boy said dutifully, giving Frollo a smile.

"Sixth?"

"Thou shalt not murder."

That one constantly tapped at Frollo s conscience, as he remembered trying to drown this boy as a baby.

"Very good. Seventh?"

"Thou shalt not commit... ad-ult-ter-rer-ree."

"Try saying the word again. Adultery." Frollo never could put up with mispronunciation of words.

"Adult-tree?"

"Adul-ter-ee."

"Adultery. I got it!" The child looked pleased at finally pronouncing a long word correctly, despite not knowing its definition.

"Good. Eighth?"

"Thou shalt not steal."

"Ninth?"

"Thou shalt not bear false witness."

"And, tenth?"

"Thou shalt not covet."

"Very good. Now it is time for bed." Frollo stood and picked up his basket.

"Oh. But I'm not tired!" Quasimodo argued.

"You will be in the morning if you don't get enough rest," Frollo countered, giving the boy a gentle push in the direction of his bedroom.

"All right, Master," Quasimodo mumbled, going into his room, putting on his sleeping clothes, and climbing into bed as he heard the tower door close. He lay awake for a long time, daydreaming about his gargoyles and thinking of all the fun he d have with them tomorrow. These happy thoughts danced around in his head until he finally went to sleep.

Several hours later, when the Judge was sure Quasimodo was asleep, he went back into the belltower and into the boy s bedroom. There he was, curled under his blanket and sound asleep, his expression peaceful. Frollo went over to the bed and sat down, uncovered the boy, and lifted him, placing him in his lap and laying his head on his chest, fluffy red hair tickling his throat. The man cradled Quasimodo like this for several minutes, rocking slightly and softly humming a hymn, all the while praying to the Holy Virgin to forgive him for willingly showing kindness to this small, innocent, hideous, sweet little monster.


End file.
